


now you found me & i can't feel you yet, but there's still time

by sterekfluffer (teampancakes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Allison, Alive Erica, Alive Laura Hale, Alive Vernon Boyd, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Dessert Wolf, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Friendship, First Kiss, Fluff, Future Fic, Happy Ending, M/M, Milkshakes, Minor Melissa McCall/Sheriff Stilinski, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stiles owns a milkshake bar, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teampancakes/pseuds/sterekfluffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I need a boyfriend and I need him fast and you’re pretty hot and the only single looking guy in the room tonight, so I’ll be eternally grateful if you were to act like we’re in love. Now, what’s your name?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	now you found me & i can't feel you yet, but there's still time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suchfun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchfun/gifts).



> Thank you to a million people who made it possible for me to write this without giving up halfway. 
> 
> To the most amazing Silvia, first of all, who cheered me on and beta'd this. To Emma, for being adorable and amazing and also cheering me on and answering all of my random plot related questions with the cutest ideas. To Lena, for being the first one to listen to me go on and on about the basics of this story and the plot and for brainstorming with me and also for giving Isaac's restaurant a name. To Cora, for being super helpful with further French and suggesting some absolutely delicious sounding dishes that Isaac could serve. To paintedrecs for her support on twitter and telling me I can do it and understanding how fics sometimes take over your life! 
> 
> Thank you, everyone. I couldn't have written this without any of your support and I'm so glad to have you all <3
> 
> Title is from a Lifehouse song called "Stardust".

Stiles’ mother left him three things: the ability to face anything armed with only sarcasm and snark, an old book full of recipes, charms and spells and her milkshake bar: The Love Shake. He assimilated the first, used the second to defend the pack as best as he could when Scott was too smitten over Kira to actively pay attention to the threats they were getting and took over the third after he finished college and came back to Beacon Hills. He kept the name. It was cheesy but he liked it and The B-52s had been one of his favorite bands growing up.

He’d had to update most of her recipes because apparently, butterscotch just wasn’t popular anymore (which was extremely surprising because butterscotch used to be the number one milkshake flavor back in his mom’s day and still remained _his_ favorite) and strawberry had made a sneaky comeback. Stiles wasn’t a big fan of strawberry. It was too sweet and weirdly pink and he hated the flavor. But his mom must have predicted the rise of the pink fruit because tucked away in the back pocket of her journal, she’d left him a single recipe: strawberry cheesecake milkshake. Stiles grinned as he added it to the menu and later told himself that he shouldn’t be surprised that it had taken the first spot on the list of Love Shake favorites as soon as the milkshake bar opened for business. After all, everyone in town agreed that his mom’s milkshakes were the best.

Except for his fake boyfriend.

“I don’t drink milkshakes,” Derek frowns at the tall glass that Stiles pushes towards him and adds, “And anyway, I don’t like strawberry.”

“You don’t drink milkshakes?!” Stiles exclaims, so horrified by that first bit of information that he doesn’t even hear Derek saying he doesn’t like strawberries (which is a good thing and would have worked in Derek’s favor had Stiles heard it).

“No,” Derek’s reply is short and his eyes don’t meet Stiles’. “Now, can we get on with this thing? I’d like to get back to work.”

Stiles opens and closes his mouth like a goldfish until Derek starts glaring him down. “So my fake boyfriend doesn’t like the very thing I do for a living? Perfect,” Stiles mutters under his breath, taking back the strawberry cheesecake milkshake he had made for Derek and putting it behind the counter where he knew Isaac would find it when he came poking around for toothpicks or napkins or whatever else his stupid restaurant had run out of that day.

Stiles had met Derek at Boyd’s bar. Well, he’d _cornered_ Derek at Boyd’s bar and aggressively asked him if he wanted to fake date him so that his dad would get off his case about being “lonely in that new apartment of yours” and “Heather and Malia are such nice girls and very good deputies. I’m sure you’d love to take either one out on a date, son.” A conversation filled with multiple variations of those two sentiments had driven Stiles to finally crack and randomly blurt out that he “had a boyfriend actually”, causing his dad to narrow his eyes suspiciously and ask Stiles to bring him over for dinner on Sunday (a mere three days away).

Which in turn led to a very frantic and anxious Stiles, sitting on the barstool next to Lydia, moaning about how hard it would be to pull out a boyfriend from thin air now that Danny was with Ethan and couldn’t pose as his fake boyfriend. That is, until Allison calmly pointed out to him that he was in a bar and there were single people everywhere. He just had to get up and look around. Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be with someone and Stiles was just at the point where he was about to start moaning again about how stupid he was when Isaac jogged his arm and pointed at the scruffy looking guy sitting two tables away from them.

He had his back to them but his black leather jacket stretched deliciously across his shoulders and from what Stiles could see, his hair looked pretty soft and messy. But the most important thing was that he was alone. At his friends’ insistence, Stiles had walked over to him and asked him if he wanted to fake-date.

“I need a boyfriend and I need him fast and you’re pretty hot and the only single looking guy in the room tonight, so I’ll be eternally grateful if you were to act like we’re in love. Now, what’s your name?” Stiles had asked, causing Derek to gape at him for at least two minutes before clearing his throat, giving him his name, and considering the proposal for a moment before nodding. Stiles had nodded back and pulled out his phone.

“Gimme your number. You’ll have to come over to my house for dinner on Sunday night,” he’d said, handing it to Derek. Derek had punched in his number, returned his phone and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Anything else?” Stiles had floundered a little at that, his confident demeanor slipping when assaulted by the other man’s bushy eyebrows.

“Um, thanks. I’ll text you tomorrow and we can meet at The Love Shake. I work there,” Stiles had said, pushing his phone deep into his pocket and rubbing his cheek with his other hand. “Well, see you then.”

Derek hadn’t said anything but Stiles had felt his eyes on his back the entire walk over to the table where the rest of the gang sat. All in all, it had seemed like the perfect plan.

That is, until Stiles texted Derek and Derek arrived at The Love Shake with his hair all mussed up from the wind and a long scarf wrapped around his neck. His eyes were of an indescribable colour and for just a moment (the tiniest fraction of a second actually), Stiles had looked at him and wished he was really dating Derek.

Obviously that had been a stray thought that anyone could have had considering Derek’s leather clad muscles and delicious looking scruff that must result in a really amazing stubble burn, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, ever since Derek had walked in and started talking (of which he didn’t do much, to be honest – he mainly communicated in glares and frowns and the occasional grunts), Stiles had begun to realize he couldn’t have picked a worse fake boyfriend. Derek and he were so incompatible, Stiles wondered why fate, if it existed, had even allowed him to go up to Derek in the bar and ask him for this.

“Fine,” Stiles tells Derek. “Well, we need to talk basics,” he clears his throat and pulls out his pen from behind his ear and a pad of paper from his apron pocket. “Where’d you grow up and how old are you?” he asks, scribbling on the pad.

“I grew up in New York but I was born here. I’m 26,” Derek replies, crossing his arms across his chest. Stiles looks up when he mentions that he was born in Beacon Hills but decides not to pursue it. As for age, well, Derek’s only two years older, so it’s not a problem.

“Good. I’m 24 and I was born and raised here. Okay, next question. Where’d you go to university and what were your majors and what do you do now?” Stiles asks professionally, feeling like he’s interviewing Derek. That’s good actually, since it keeps his mind off Derek’s amazingly good looks. In another universe, where Derek liked milkshakes and smiled a lot more, maybe Stiles would have fallen in love with him.

“I went to NYU and I majored in Literature. I own Dessert Wolf now but I occasionally write also,” Derek answers. Stiles knows all about Dessert Wolf. It was a donut place a few blocks away and pretty popular. He hadn’t ever gone there but Allison went regularly and she claimed the donuts were to die for. Well, at least Derek and he had that in common: neither were particularly big fans of each other’s workplaces.

“Okay, now tell me a bit about your family –“ Stiles starts but Derek holds up his hand and stops him.

“Look, how long do you think we’ll need to be dating?” he asks, surprising Stiles who had been expecting a personal question about his university or majors or something.

“Uh, not for very long? We just have to meet my dad, act like we’re together for maybe a week and then you can break up with me and I can deal with my dad after that,” Stiles replies, a strange feeling of disappointment settling in him.

“Okay and how long before meeting your dad have we been dating?” Derek asks, surprising Stiles again. He just didn’t see where Derek was going with this line of interrogation.

“Um, a week, I guess?” Stiles ventures, looking at him questioningly, wondering what he was thinking.

“Great. Then you don’t need to ask me a lot of stuff or know so much about me. The only thing we need to agree on and know perfectly is how we met.” Derek reaches for his long scarf that he had unwound and deposited on the counter upon arrival. Stiles stares and feels his heart sink. Did Derek hate him or something? Was he that undesirable that he couldn’t even stay to discuss basic stuff and build a baseline of information that most people knew about each other when they were in a relationship?

“I, uh, okay. So, um, how _did_ we meet?” he asks instead, his tone subdued. Derek is winding that scarf around his neck again and gets off the barstool when he’s done.

“We met at the bar. I was a little drunk and tried to buy you a drink and you thought I was hot so you agreed. We had a few shots, you kissed me, and I took you home. We had sex, I gave you my number, you called the next day and we’ve been together ever since,” Derek narrates without expression. Stiles stares at him as he pushes both hands in the pockets of his jeans and turns to leave.

“If you don’t like me, you don’t have to do this,” Stiles blurts out when Derek’s halfway to the door. “I can find someone else, you know,” he adds, feeling a little pathetic.

Derek turns back to look at him with an unreadable expression. He opens his mouth, hesitates and then says abruptly, “I want to do it,” and leaves without another word.

Stiles sighs loudly and rests his head on his arms, breathing deeply. He was starting to think maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. It would be easier to just tell his dad he’d lied and wasn’t interested in dating anyone at the moment than pretend to be Derek’s boyfriend for a week. And what had he meant by “I want to do it,” anyway? After making it seem like it was going to be an ordeal?

The bell on the door tinkles and he looks up immediately to see if it’s Derek but it’s just Isaac. Stiles groans and cushions his head on his arms again.

“Hey do you have any paper cups? I have a birthday party coming in in an hour and I’ve run out of paper cups for the kids,” Isaac drawls, looking around.

“In the back but get your own cups next time,” Stiles mumbles, not looking up. “There’s a milkshake behind the counter for you too,” he adds, sighing.

“Sweet! Is it strawberry cheesecake? Do I have to pay?” Isaac asks, rubbing his hands together.

“Yes and no, I guess it’s on the house,” Stiles raises his head unwillingly and stares at Isaac. “Am I very unattractive?” he asks after a minute in which Isaac finds the shake and starts drinking it, having completely forgotten the paper cups he came for.

“No, of course not. You’re pretty hot with all the moles and everything. I’d totally do you if I wasn’t in love with Ally,” Isaac shrugs. Stiles frowns. His _moles_ were hot? Ugh. He could never trust Isaac to give him a straight up, good answer.

“Don’t forget the paper cups, idiot,” Stiles calls after him as Isaac turns to leave, milkshake still in hand.

“Oh, whoops,” Isaac says apologetically, turning back towards the backroom where Stiles kept the extra stuff. “I totally did not come just for the milkshake though,” he calls, emerging from the backroom with a stack of cups.

“Yeah right,” Stiles snorts.

*

 **[Laura 8.12 pm]** Hey baby bro, whatcha up too?

 **[Derek 8.32 pm]** Stop calling me that. I’m having dinner.

 **[Laura 8.34 pm]** Alone I bet. You should date someone Der. Get out there. Get over her and what she did. It’s been two years.

 **[Derek 8.38 pm]** Der isn’t any better and I told you already. I don’t want to date anyone for a while. I want to run Dessert Wolf and be normal.

 **[Derek 8.39 pm]** And I wouldn’t be having dinner alone if you had come back to Beacon Hills with me too.

 **[Laura 8.40 pm]** Der, you know I don’t want to leave my job here at the NYPD right? I love it here and I have a good thing going on and the Captain might be promoting me next month. Plus I’m an Alpha and I’m not sure I’d be welcomed as warmly.

 **[Derek 8.42 pm]** I’m sorry. Congratulations on the promotion.

 **[Laura 8.45 pm]** Congratulate me when I actually get promoted. Sigh.

 **[Derek 8.47 pm]** I’m sure you will be, Laur.

 **[Laura 8.50 pm]** Thanks. So, tell me. Who’s the Alpha around those areas and did they have a problem with you or anything? I can talk to them if you want.

 **[Derek 8.54 pm]** He’s just a kid. About a year or two younger than I am. His name’s Scott McCall and he’s a vet. I met him and he’s pretty okay. Told me to come to him if I ever needed anything.

 **[Laura 8.56 pm]** Sounds great. I’m glad you two got on. If he ever gives you any trouble though, you know who to call.

 **[Derek 8.58 pm]** I know, I know.

 **[Laura 8.59 pm]** Anyway, I gotta go now. Text me if you need anything. Love you.

 **[Derek 9.05 pm]** Sure. Love you too.

 **[Derek 10.13 pm]** Actually there is something I wanted to tell you. I was in a bar last night and this guy came up to me and asked me to fake-date him. He doesn’t want to be in a relationship with anyone at the moment but his dad keeps setting him up so he told him he had a boyfriend. Anyway, I’m going over to his house tomorrow for dinner.

 **[Derek 10.22 pm]** I don’t know if it’s a bad idea or not but I said yes to him. Anyway, whatever. We’ll fake break up in a week or so.

 **[Derek 10.24 pm]** It’s perfect actually. He doesn’t want to date. I don’t want to date. But we’ll go through the motions of dating without actually dating.

 **[Laura 4.14 am]** YOU DID WHAT. YOU’RE FAKE DATING A GUY WHO YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. WHAT? HAVE YOU TALKED TO ERICA ABOUT THIS BECAUSE I’M NOT SO SURE IT’S A GOOD IDEA.

*

“This looks better on you,” Lydia frowns, holding up the white dress shirt to his chest and staring at his reflection in the mirror critically. Allison nods and starts to rummage through his tie drawer.

“What? No! I’m not wearing a tie!” Stiles exclaims when he notices, “This isn’t an anniversary dinner, it’s just a meet my fake-boyfriend dinner!” Allison just snorts and pulls out a red tie. Lydia holds out her hand for it and loops it around the shirt’s collar, still looking in the mirror critically.

“I’m not wearing a tie,” Stiles protests weakly.

“Mhm,” Lydia hums, removing the shirt and tie from his chest and placing them carefully on the bed where Scott is, eating Cheerios from the box.

“Dude, that’s my last box,” Stiles tells him and Scott looks at him apologetically. “And do something! Tell them I don’t want to wear a tie,” he pleads.

“Come on, guys, he doesn’t want to wear a tie,” Scott says to the two women who simply ignore him, now rooting about in Stiles’ pants drawer.

“Stiles your dress pants are seriously wrinkled,” Allison admonishes him, holding up his black pants. Lydia frowns at them and reaches for his blue skinny jeans. “These would look fab on him, I think,” she tells Allison, handing them to her. Allison considers them for a moment before her face breaks out in a smile, dimples and all.

“Totally!” she exclaims, adding them to the neat pile on the bed. “And we have our outfit!” Lydia announces, turning to Stiles. “Wear this. It’s guaranteed to make him drool over you all night and make him wish he was actually dating you.”

Stiles smiles cautiously. “But, um, isn’t not wanting to date anyone the whole point of this fake relationship?” he asks. Both women look at him blankly and then at each other, as if stumped by the question.

“Still, doesn’t hurt to look sexy and great,” Lydia decides, flipping her hair over her shoulder and holding out the outfit to Stiles. “Now, go on, change. I want to do your hair and add finishing touches.” Allison is now sitting next to Scott on the bed, asking for Cheerios by nudging his elbow and doesn’t notice the way Stiles sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes.

“Okay, fine,” Stiles concedes, taking the clothes and walking towards the bathroom.

“He’s gonna be here in an hour so hurry up!” Allison calls after him, munching on his cereal.

*

 **[Derek 11.19 am]** I haven’t seen Erica in two days but I’m sure it’ll make her happy to know that I am finally “putting myself out there”. Anyway, you could be a little more supportive.

 **[Laura 11.43 am]** Der, I am being supportive. I just don’t know if going out with a total stranger is going to make anything better? When I asked you to go out and have fun, I meant for you to actually meet someone you have a chance at a relationship with.

 **[Laura 11.44 am]** It would make me feel so much better if you could just call Erica and talk to her about this before doing anything else.

 **[Derek 11.50 am]** It’s a Sunday! She’s probably relaxing and doing something for herself for once and I don’t want to ruin it for her. And anyway, you know I’m not looking for a relationship right now. Not after what happened with Kate. I think going out with Stiles is a great idea – I get to be social without the actual commitment.

 **[Laura 12.01 pm]** His name is Stiles!?

 **[Laura 12.02 pm]** So don’t call Erica, just email her.

 **[Derek 12.05 pm]** Okay, okay, fine. I’ll email her.

 **[Laura 12.07 pm]** Let me know what she thinks.

*

**To: ericareyes@healthcenterbh.com**

**From: derekh@gmail.com (sent 12.15 pm)**

**No Subject**

Hi Erica.

Sorry to disturb you on a Sunday but Laura really wanted me to talk to you about something I recently agreed to. I met a guy in a bar and he asked me if I was willing to pretend to be in a relationship with him to stop his dad from setting him up with random people and I said yes. I’m going over to dinner at his house tonight to meet his dad. I think it’s a good idea but Laura has some objections and wanted me to talk to you.

I’ve attached a screenshot of my conversation with her. I know it’s a Sunday but if you could reply soon, that would be great so I can put Laura’s worries to rest.

Thank you,

**< attached: screencap1.jpg> click to open**

 

**To: derekh@gmail.com**

**From: ericareyes@healthcenterbh.com (sent 4.15 pm)**

**Re: No Subject**

Hello, Derek!

I’m so happy you decided to follow Laura’s suggestion and talk to me about this! However, I must side with Laura here and tell you that I don’t think it’s a great decision either. I read the screenshot and all of your opinions on the matter but the thing is, false relationships, no matter how casual and “no strings attached” they are, are still not a great idea for a vulnerable person like you. What you need right now is not a false sense of security and reiteration of the concept that it’s okay to not commit to a relationship (even if the basis of the agreement with Stiles is this fact).

What you need right now is a healthy, working relationship. I’m not even asking you to pursue a romantic relationship – I just want you to make friends and start socializing like a normal person would. In the face of that, this fake relationship with Stiles may break down every good concept that we have built over the last few months and in fact, be detrimental to your mental health.

You need to move on from Kate but not in this way. Start going out more often. Strike up conversations. Compliment people. Smile. That’s what you need.

If you still need to talk to me about this, please feel free to call me on my personal cell any time after 5.30 pm. Give my love to Laura,

PS. Don’t worry about bothering me on a Sunday. You can email me or text me whenever you need me.

*

 **[Laura 5.15 pm]** Did Erica say anything yet? Did you email her?

 **[Derek 6.22 pm]** No reply yet.

 **[Laura 6.30 pm]** So what are you going to do then?

 **[Laura 7.16 pm]** I don’t believe that you’re not seeing these. Are you still going over for dinner at his place?

 **[Derek 7.43 pm]** Leaving now. Couldn’t cancel because would seem rude. Anyway, I still think its okay.

*

“So, this boyfriend of yours,” his dad asks, leaning against the kitchen door with his arms crossed. Stiles looks up from the spaghetti he’s stirring (it’s his mom’s recipe and he made it himself) and cocks an eyebrow questioningly.

“Are you going to at least tell me his first name so that I can greet him?” Stiles laughs nervously. He’d been avoiding his dad for the past two days so that no new information could be potentially extracted from him about said fake-boyfriend. What if his dad had asked about something Stiles had no clue about and therefore made up an answer to which later turned out to be something completely non-Derek?

“Derek. His name is Derek,” Stiles tells him, thinking that’s safe enough. His dad smiles, repeats the name and then sighs. “I’m really glad you found someone, son,” and he looks so happy it nearly breaks Stiles heart. He’s saved from any further guilt by the doorbell ringing, though. _Thank god._

“I’ll get it,” Stiles nearly squeaks, dropping the lid back on the pot and removing his apron. He’s wearing the outfit Lydia and Allison had picked but had skipped the tie. They’d never find out and he didn’t like ties a lot, so it was okay. He had left the top button undone however, as per Allison’s suggestion. It showed off a few moles and some pale skin and maybe his moles _were_ hot, like Isaac had said.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles opens the door.

And stares.

Because Derek looks gorgeous. He’s wearing skinny jeans, like Stiles, a dark blue dress shirt and a jacket and he’s holding flowers (flowers!!) and a bottle of wine.

And he’s smiling.

“Derek,” the Sheriff pushes past his son’s immobile frame and holds out a hand, smiling. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Derek hands him the bottle of wine and then steps forward for a one armed hug. Stiles is still staring.

“I’m glad to be here, sir,” Derek beams. He _beams._ His teeth are super adorable. They’re like a rabbit’s teeth and they make Stiles want to giggle. And also kiss him. But no. Focus. Fake boyfriend. Okay.

“These are for you,” Derek says to Stiles, holding out the flowers and stepping forward. Stiles freezes, not sure if he’s going in for a kiss or what. Derek ends up pecking him lightly on the cheek. Every nerve burns where his beard touches Stiles and he’s pretty sure he’s as red as a beetroot.

“Ah,” he clears his throat, taking the flowers from Derek and smiling nervously again. His dad starts to usher Derek into the living room so Stiles hurriedly closes the door behind them, closes his eyes briefly and takes a minute to just breathe. He’s sure he’s nervous only because Derek’s not actually his boyfriend and if his dad finds out he lied, well, he’d be really disappointed.

“Stiles, are you coming in or what?” the Sheriff calls and Stiles is brought back to the present. Also, he’s still holding the damn flowers.

“Just a minute. I’m putting the flowers in water,” he calls back, walking towards the kitchen to find an empty vase.

When he walks into the living room, his dad and Derek are laughing so hard they can’t even talk. Stiles stops short and stares at the scene before him. _What the hell?_

“Oh Stiles! There you are! Sit!” his dad says, choking over his laughter still. Bewildered, Stiles takes a seat next to Derek on the sofa and tries not to think about how close they’re sitting. It doesn’t help that Derek throws an arm around his shoulder and tucks him closer to his body hardly two seconds later. Stiles tries to act like its completely normal but he’s not sure he’s doing a great job.

“So,” he tries. “What’s so funny?” Derek grins and motions for his dad to explain.

“Derek’s just sharing some funny cop stories with me,” the Sheriff tells Stiles, his eyes still crinkled in laughter. Stiles is surprised. How does Derek know funny cop stories? “Don’t tell me he hasn’t ever told you about that time Laura burnt her partner’s hair off?” his dad asks incredulously.

“Ohmygod yes!” Stiles exclaims. _What?!_ “I remember that one! Hilarious!” he laughs too and then quickly gets up. “Unfortunately, I must check on the spaghetti now,” he adds apologetically, excusing himself.

What even is Derek doing? The deal wasn’t to make his dad fall in love with his fake boyfriend. Stiles hadn’t seen his dad laugh that hard in – he couldn’t even remember how long. He twists his face in a frown, jealous that a total stranger could make his dad happier than he could.

Pulling out his phone, Stiles brings up his text messages and types one out to Scott, gripping the cool marble kitchen counter with his free hand.

 **[Stiles 8.38 pm]** Duuuuuuude.

 **[Scott 8.38 pm]** What’s up? Isn’t Derek supposed to be over?

 **[Stiles 8.39 pm]** Dude my dad loves my fake boyfriend.

 **[Scott 8.39 pm]** That’s good?

 **[Stiles 8.39 pm]** No you don’t get it. He LOVES Derek. Like, he’s laughing and everything. And Derek brought me flowers. FLOWERS.

 **[Scott 8.40 pm]** Dude, chill. He’s playing his part. After all, that’s what you asked him to do.

 **[Stiles 8.40 pm]** Not to this extent!!

 **[Scott 8.41 pm]** I’m rolling my eyes at you.

Stiles sighs loudly, shoves his phone into his pocket, then his hands into gloves. He opens the oven door sharply, wincing when the hot air hits him right in the face, making it burn. “Jeez,” he huffs, reaching for the blueberry pie and sticking in a toothpick to see if it’s done. The toothpick comes out clean, so he grabs the edge of the pie dish and deposits it on the cooling rack.

The spaghetti is also done, so he turns off the gas and dishes it up too. His dad is still snorting away in the living room. Stiles slams the empty pot into the sink and peels off his gloves. He’s set the table, opened the wine Derek had brought and pretty much gotten everything ready for the stupid dinner. He can’t wait for it to be over.

“Dinner’s ready,” he calls out cheerfully from the doorway, hoping he looks inviting and not hostile. He must have succeeded because his dad doesn’t notice anything wrong and Derek just gives him a heart stopping smile before getting up and asking where the bathroom is. Stiles points out the way to him and turns away, muttering under his breath, t _his is just an act. This is just an act, nothing else._ Why else would he be all smiles now, in the presence of his dad, and be the grumpiest man ever when they met at Love Shake? Obviously it was all an act.

As it should be, obviously. Right.

“So,” his dad comes up behind him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. Stiles isn’t expecting it and his knees buckle under the pressure. He regains his balance ungracefully and bobs up with a smile.

“So?” he waggles his eyebrows. His dad grins.

“Derek is fantastic,” his dad says, clapping his shoulder again. Thankfully, Stiles is expecting it this time.

“I know. He is, isn’t he?” Stiles grins back.

“I’m just so happy for you two,” his dad goes on, making Stiles feel increasingly uncomfortable. “I had no idea his sister was an NYPD detective. Or that his mother was the great Talia Hale!”

_NYPD? New York? Talia Hale?_

“Yeah, well,” Stiles drags it out, hoping Derek will come back any second. His wish is granted and Derek walks into the kitchen at that moment, looking just as hot as ever. Stiles shakes his head mentally to get rid of the images forming in it.

“This is my wife’s recipe,” Stiles’ dad says proudly as he serves the spaghetti. “Of course, she was a great cook. You’ve obviously had her shakes that Stiles now makes?” he looks at Derek expectantly and Derek smiles. _Aha_ , Stiles thinks, _won’t be able to lie here, will you?_

“Actually, I haven’t had a chance to yet,” Derek says, surprising Stiles. “But I’ve heard really good things about them,” he adds, waving a fork in Stiles’ general direction. The Sheriff looks confused for a moment but then his face breaks into a grin.

“Try strawberry cheesecake then. Town favorite,” he advises. Derek smiles apologetically.

“I don’t like strawberries. I do like butterscotch a lot though,” he adds, eating another forkful of his spaghetti. Stiles almost chokes on his. _He hates strawberries and likes butterscotch?_ It’s the first point of similarity between them and Stiles’ brain latches onto it tightly.

“Well, we have that too, don’t we, son?” the Sheriff laughs, looking at Stiles who nods and grins in reply.

“This spaghetti, though,” Derek turns to pin his gaze on Stiles. “It’s delicious.” Stiles smiles weakly and the Sheriff beams.

There’s a brief silence while everyone eats and then Stiles breaks it by asking if anyone wants wine. He has a feeling he needs at least two glasses in him before he’s able to tackle the rest of the evening. Fortunately, everyone says yes so he can have his first without feeling too weird about it. His dad had stopped drinking except on special occasions and Derek was, well, he didn’t even know if? Derek drank or not – he was a stranger after all. A very hot, very sexy stranger.

They’re halfway done with the spaghetti when Derek starts the NYPD stories again, his dad listening avidly and laughing just as hard as he was before. At first, Stiles zones Derek out out of spite but then his curiosity snags on a piece of conversation involving a Star Wars movie marathon and then he’s talking just as animatedly as his dad and Derek.

He argues. He gestures wildly with his hands and accidentally jabs Derek in the chest with a forefinger at one point. That brings him back to earth fast enough. He leans back quickly, assessing the damage and range of embarrassment when he notices a strangely relieved look on his dad’s face.

“What’s wrong, dad?” he asks anxiously but his dad just smiles.

“You two seemed strangely tense all evening and I was getting kind of worried but now I realize I was stupid to think anything like that,” his dad shrugs. “Any fool could see how much in love you are!” he adds, shocking both Stiles and Derek.

 _Aha! That went through the façade!_ Stiles thinks through his haze of shock, noticing Derek’s similar expression. Derek recovers first though. He grins and reaches out for Stiles’ hand without warning. His big palm rests lightly on top of Stiles’ closed fist and a stray thumb rubs his skin soothingly. Stiles sits absolutely still.

“So,” his dad changes his tone to a serious one, making Stiles worry about what he was going to say. That tone never meant anything good. His dad lays down his fork and spoon, swishes the last of the wine in his glass with a twist of his wrist and looks at the both of them in a way that is slowly freaking Stiles out. Especially since Derek is still holding his hand.

“You use protection, right?”

Stiles turns red and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Derek blush very slightly too.

“Of course, sir,” Derek replies. The Sheriff nods and drinks the rest of his wine. “That’s good,” he says. Derek nods too and Stiles doesn’t speak at all because he’s 99% sure whatever he says will come out as squeaks, not words.

“So!” his dad changes the subject. “Pie?”

When the most awkward dinner in all history of awkward dinners is over, it’s nearly 10 pm and Stiles doesn’t know how he survived the two hours. He’s exhausted. His head is pounding from all the stress and embarrassment and he’s pretty sure his skin is still blotchy from all the blushing he did after dinner when they sat in the living room with the pie, Derek staring at him often between bites.

“It was so great to meet you, Derek,” the Sheriff smiles when they’re all standing in the hall. Derek’s put on his jacket and is fixing his shoelaces.

“It was great to meet you too, sir,” Derek replies, straightening and shaking the hand offered to him. The Sheriff laughs and claps him on the back as they pull back from a hug.

“John. Call me John,” he says. Stiles stares at him open-mouthed. _First name basis?_

“Come, son, walk him out,” Stiles dad says, giving him a little push towards Derek. Derek smiles at him in that _way_ again and grips his forearms lightly with both hands, leaning in close.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he whispers very quietly so that the Sheriff doesn’t hear. Stiles barely has time to process what he said before soft lips are pushing against him briefly. It’s just a brush, no tongue at all, and lasts only for about two seconds but Stiles’ brain is spinning when Derek pulls back.

“See you later,” Derek says, louder this time, turning to the door, leaving Stiles staring after him in shock.

*

 **[Laura 11.49 pm]** Did Erica reply yet? Did you go to Stiles’? How was it? TELL ME, DER.

 **[Derek 8.17 am]** Yeah Erica said it’s a good idea. And yeah, I went. It was fun.

 **[Laura 8.19 am]** Fun? Define fun. Give me details. Even if the only relationship you’re having right now is a fake one, I want to know everything, Derek.

 **[Derek 8.22 am]** His dad is the Sheriff of the town. He knew mom. Stiles’ mom was a great cook, she owned a milkshake bar which Stiles runs now. It’s called The Love Shake.

 **[Laura 8.24 am]** Oh, is he the Sheriff!? Wow!

 **[Laura 8.24 am]** Why do you refer to his mom in the past tense?

 **[Stiles 8.26 am]** I think she died.

 **[Laura 8.27 am]** You THINK she died?

 **[Derek 8.28 am]** Well, I didn’t actually ask. I’m just assuming by the way they spoke of her. Anyway, why do you care so much?

 **[Laura 8.30 am]** Rude.

 **[Laura 8.30 am]** I see Stiles has you all riled up for some reason, huh. I wonder what it is. Is he cute? Send me a picture!

 **[Derek 8.32 am]** I don’t have a picture and he does NOT have me “all riled up”!!!!!

 **[Laura 8.34 am]** Derek Hale using five exclamation marks!

 **[Laura 8.42 am]** Okay, I’m just messing with you.

 **[Laura 8.44 am]** Come bacccckkk.

 **[Laura 8.50 am]** Dereekkkkk. Tell me more about your fake-boyfriend!!!

*

Stiles checks his phone when he wakes up in the morning but there’s nothing. No text or call from Derek. Well, he supposes he’s the one who initiated first contact so he’s going to be the one to text Derek the next fake-date plans too. He sighs and rubs his eyes sleepily, wondering how long he should keep up the whole fake dating thing. If it goes on too long, his breakup would have to be messy and he’d have to act upset and his dad might try and get them back together. But if it ends in a few days, his dad might suspect something. Stiles has to find just the right balance.

 **[Stiles 10.01 am]** Hey, can we meet up so that we can plan this out a little more?

He presses send and then gets out of bed, yawning still. Thank god the cashier had agreed to open The Love Shake for him at 10.30 so that he could have a lie-in.

*

Stiles wonders if he should try again with a butterscotch milkshake this time but decides against it when he realizes Derek had said that he “didn’t drink milkshakes”. Shaking his head, Stiles snorts. Who doesn’t drink milkshakes? Jeez.

“Okay,” Derek slips into the booth that Stiles is waiting for him in. “So, what next?”

“Don’t you say hello?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow. Derek huffs and mutters a hello and tugs at his soft woolen gloves so that they come off. He tucks them into his pocket and rubs his hands together. Stiles realizes he’s staring at his hands and shifts his eyes instantly, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I was thinking maybe we should go out once or twice? A dinner? A shopping trip together? I think that should be enough,” Stiles says, playing with the little caramel sauce sachets he keeps in the booths.

“Okay,” Derek says. “Tomorrow? At Le Croc'stillant?” Stiles opens his mouth to say no because that’s Isaac’s restaurant and he’d have the most fun of his life teasing the two of them but then he realizes it’s a good place to have dinner because it’s pretty popular and Tuesday nights is when they have the Filet de loup de mer citronné which nearly half the town loves. So, if half the town is there, that would be great publicity.

“Sure,” Stiles says. “I can pick you up at eight,” he adds before Derek can offer because he really wants to see where Derek lives.

“Okay,” Derek agrees, surprisingly. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Great,” Stiles says, picking up a sachet between two fingers and dropping it onto the pile he’s making at the edge of the table. There’s an awkward silence before Derek reaches for his gloves.

“Okay then, see you,” he says, getting up. Stiles waves as he leaves but he doesn’t really look back. Oh well.

*

 **[Derek 5.16 pm]** I like him.

 **[Laura 5.29 pm]** What.

 **[Derek 5.34 pm]**  I like Stiles.

 **[Laura 5.35 pm]** Define ‘like’.

 **[Derek 5.36 pm]** He’s really nice and attractive and I just generally really like him. I had fun with his dad too.

 **[Laura 5.38 pm]** Sooo like, do you wanna date-date him? Is that what you’re trying to say?

 **[Derek 5.47 pm]** Maybe.

 **[Laura 5.49 pm]** That’s great! I guess. Except, you’re fake-dating him and he’s not interested in dating, as far as I can tell from you’ve told me?

 **[Derek 5.55 pm]** And that’s the problem.

*

They’re in the restaurant and Derek looks absolutely amazing in a white shirt and black pants and the skinniest red tie that Stiles has ever seen. He’s pretty sure he stares at it for nearly five minutes while Derek orders.

Surprisingly, Isaac doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Stiles is glad. He just wants this to go as smoothly as possible so that he can get back home and play some CoD. He’d picked Derek up at 8.10. He lived in a loft. Stiles didn’t really get to see the inside of the loft but at least he now knew where Derek lived.

“So, why are you fake-dating instead of really dating someone?” Derek suddenly asks. Stiles snaps his attention back towards him and furrows his brow. “I mean, sure, the people your dad was setting you up with may not have been your type but I don’t know, I guess, I just want to know why you’re not interested in actually dating someone?” he breaks a bit of the bread in the bread basket between them and takes a careful bite, looking at Stiles all the while.

“Um, well,” Stiles starts. “It’s a long story actually,” he says, hoping that might dissuade Derek, but Derek just keeps on chewing and looking at him. So Stiles ploughs on. “There is this girl I was in love with for nearly all my life. She’s beautiful and kind and smart and funny and fiercely loyal,” he pauses, laughs and waves his hands about in a ‘You know what I mean’ gesture.

“Anyway. We were never meant to be. She started dating this other dude and at first I was super jealous because the other dude wasn’t actually nice at all but after a while I realized that they were perfect for each other,” Stiles sighs. “And the dude wasn’t that bad after all.” He breaks off a piece of bread too. “Anyway, my point is that all I know how to do is love all-consumingly. I’ve done it all my life.  I’ve never dated casually and I don’t think I’d be very good at it because I’d always want more than what the other person was willing to give, I bet.”

Derek’s gaze becomes a little softer as Stiles finishes explaining. “But, if you’ve never dated, how can you tell that is what will happen?” he asks quietly. “Maybe you do know how to pace your love but you just don’t know that you know it yet.”

Stiles frowns, trying to follow his logic. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think so. If I fall, I fall hard,” he pauses and tries to tamp down the thoughts of Derek and kissing Derek and holding hands with Derek because he can feel himself doing the very thing he’s just been describing and he can’t – he just cannot fall in love with his fake boyfriend. So he shakes his head and thinks of Isaac and his weird, floppy hair and kissing Isaac and okay, ew. Mind sufficiently cleared.

“So, why don’t _you_ date?” he changes the subject, breaking off another piece of the bread to eat while Derek answers. Something in his expression hardens for a minute and he seems to shrink backwards into his seat, pulling his hands back to put them in his lap.

“I went through a really bad relationship so that really put me off,” he finally tells Stiles, trying to sound light and casual but Stiles can still pick up on the tense, sad undertone. He finishes chewing and makes an apologetic sound.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says. Derek gives him a tight smile and brushes it off. Stiles fidgets with the salt and pepper shakers as Derek looks around the restaurant.

“We should hold hands,” Derek says suddenly. Stiles looks up, startled.

“What?” he says. Derek turns to him and gestures to the rest of the restaurant.

“We look like two friends having dinner. If we hold hands, we might be able to sell ‘boyfriends’,” he rolls his eyes and reaches for Stiles’ hand. Stiles’ is still at a loss for words and lets his right hand be pulled to the middle of the table and held in Derek’s slightly larger one. His palm is rough and sort of calloused but his grip is firm and rather comforting. Stiles looks up and smiles and Derek smiles back.

Their meals arrive a few minutes after that. When Derek lets go of Stiles’ hand so that they can eat, Stiles feels a little swoop of disappointment in his stomach. He doesn’t know what he was expecting but Derek’s hand on top of his felt right. That’s all he knows.

*

**To: derekh@gmail.com**

**From: ericareyes@healthcenterbh.com (sent 3.42 pm)**

**Meetings**

Dear Derek,

I hope you’re feeling well. I’ve been worried because you have not showed up for the past two appointments that we made and you also never replied to my email about Stiles, nor did you call me. Please could you drop in any time tomorrow or call me or email me at the very least?

Thank you,

 

**To: ericareyes@healthcenterbh.com**

**From: derekh@gmail.com (sent 6.18 pm)**

**Re: Meetings**

Erica,

I’m so sorry I’ve been missing out on meetings -

I went to have dinner at Stiles’ -

I don’t feel like -

I’m -

*

“You’re falling in love with him?” Kira sounds surprised but also somewhat happy, which annoys Stiles. She’s supposed to sympathize with the situation he’s in, not be happy that he’s falling in love with his fake-boyfriend! He glares at her and she laughs, snapping off her gloves and replacing the cat back into her basket.

“It’s not funny,” Stiles complains. “He’s totally not interested in dating so I can’t even think about falling in love with him. Otherwise, we’ll have a Lydia situation on our hands again and trust me, moping after someone is somewhat okay when you’re ten but it’s definitely not okay when you’re twenty-four,” he grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor.

Kira hums sympathetically as she washes her hands. “So, how do you know he’s not interested in dating at all?”

“He told me,” Stiles sighs. “Said he was in a bad relationship and that put him off.” He makes a face at the basket which is now softly meowing.

Kira coos at the cat and picks up the basket. “Stay here, I’ll be right back after I give Simon back to his owner,” she tells Stiles, leaving her office. Stiles looks after her morosely until he feels his phone vibrate. He pulls it out of his pocket; it’s his dad.

“Hey dad,” Stiles greets, picking up. “Everything okay?” The Sheriff usually doesn’t have time to call in the middle of the day.

“Yeah, son, everything’s okay,” his dad says. “Well, there is one little problem,” he admits.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asks, feeling slightly worried.

“It’s nothing bad. I just found a bedbug in my room the other day so I’m having it checked out in case it’s an infestation so I wondered if I could stay with you till Pest Control figures it out.”

“Of course, dad, you don’t even have to ask,” Stiles tells him.

“Normally I wouldn’t,” his dad chuckles. “But since you’re seeing someone now, I didn’t want to get – in the middle of things, if you know what I mean,” he coughs. _Oh shit. Derek._

“No, no, dad, um, we’re actually more at his place than at mine, so that’s not a problem,” Stiles finds himself saying. _What the hell, Stiles._

“Oh,” his dad says awkwardly. “Okay, that’s um, that’s great! So, I’ll bring my stuff over tonight, then, that okay?”

“Sure, dad. See you then,” Stiles hangs up, wincing. Great. Now he had to juggle a fake-boyfriend and a parent who was currently rooming with him. Fantastic.

*

 **[Laura 3.42 pm]** I’m worried about you, Derek.

 **[Derek 3.58 pm]** Why? I’m fine.

 **[Laura 3.59 pm]** Because you hardly ever call or text me anymore and I know you haven’t been going to therapy ever since you met this Stiles person.

 **[Derek 4.00 pm]** How do you know that.

 **[Laura 4.02 pm]** Erica called me. I’m listed as your emergency contact, remember? She told me how she sent you an email telling you not to go to Stiles’ for dinner but you told me she was okay with it. Derek, I’m worried about you.

 **[Derek 4.05 pm]** Don’t be worried, I’m fine. I haven’t been going to Erica because I don’t feel like it.

 **[Laura 4.06 pm]** So, is that a good thing or a bad thing?

 **[Derek 4.12 pm]** Look, I’m happy. I don’t go to Erica because I’m tired of talking about my feelings about Kate and the fire and everything shitty that happened to me. I don’t feel like that’s being productive – revisiting that every single week – how is that helping me? I’m sure Erica means well, and I really like her, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore – I want to forget. I want to live.

 **[Laura 4.30 pm]** You have a good point, Derek. Maybe you should tell Erica everything that you just told me – I’m sure silence on your end is not the best idea. She’s really worried about you, Der. You don’t have to have therapy if you don’t want to and if you tell her, I’m a hundred percent sure she will understand.

 **[Derek 4.32 pm]** You’re right, I’m being rude. I’ll call her right now. Thanks Laura.

 **[Laura 4.34 pm]** No problem, baby bro. I love you.

*

It’s been two days and his dad is starting to ask why he hasn’t seen Derek recently. Stiles mumbles something about Derek being busy on the first day and him being tired on the second but on the third, his dad puts down his fork after dinner and looks at him seriously. Stiles swallows – he knows what his dad is gonna say and he’s run out of excuses.

“So, I’m going to Derek’s tonight, if that’s okay with you,” Stiles says before his dad even has the chance to open his mouth. His dad looks surprised for a minute then breaks out in a smile. Stiles quickly shoves some curly fries into his mouth so that he doesn’t have to respond with actual words.

“Oh, that’s great,” his dad sounds relieved. “I was beginning to think maybe me staying over wasn’t the best idea for you two lovebirds, you know, with me getting in the way and all.” Stiles shakes his head and makes a noncommittal sound.

“I’ll do the dishes,” his dad offers and Stiles swallows the last of his fries and grins.

“Thanks, dad,” he says, because what else can he do?

 

He packs a bag with his pajamas and his laptop and then checks his phone to see if Derek has replied. He’d texted him as soon as he’d finished dinner: a quick text to let him know that he was going to come over and stay at his place for the night. There’s a notification for a new text so Stiles opens it.

 **[Derek 8.37 pm]** Bit short notice but okay. You get the couch though.

 **[Stiles 8.38 pm]** As long as my dad thinks we’re doing sexy things and being in love, the couch sounds great.

He hits ‘send’ before thinking twice and then worries if it was too inappropriate to mention ‘sexy things’. Figuring he can’t really do anything about it even if it was, he pockets his phone, hoists his bag on his shoulder and goes into the kitchen to tell his dad he’s going. His dad is washing the dishes and he has some music on and Stiles just stares at him dancing a little for a minute, feeling something big lodge in his throat.

“Dad,” he calls after a minute, swallowing hard. “I’m leaving.”

“Have fun, use protection and don’t come back before breakfast,” his dad tells him, looking serious but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. Stiles blushes hard and leans in for a hug. His dad is kinda the best and sometimes, he forgets that he’s lying to him majorly regarding Derek. But, pretty soon, it’ll be over. He’s thinking of “breaking up” with Derek in a few days. Maybe after one more date. And then he won’t have to lie to his dad anymore. Stiles sighs to himself as he pulls back and looks at his dad’s happy expression. He hates that what’s put it there was a lie but he’s in too deep to fix it without going through the full plan.

Oh well, at least it’ll be the easiest break up he ever has to go through considering he’s not even dating the guy.

*

 **[Derek 8.40 pm]** Stiles is coming over and he’s staying the night.

 **[Laura 8.45 pm]** Ooooo. Are you nervous?

 **[Derek 8.46 pm]** Of course not. Why would I be nervous?

 **[Laura 8.47 pm]** Because he’s your fake-boyfriend and you want him to be your real boyfriend?

 **[Derek 8.50 pm]** Okay maybe I’m a tiny bit nervous.

 **[Laura 8.52 pm]** Don’t be. Just tell him how you feel. Or if that’s too scary a prospect, just be as open and friendly with him as you can tonight and just see where that leads you. He hasn’t asked to break up yet, has he? Wasn’t this originally just a week long thing?

 **[Derek 8.54 pm]** Yeah, it was.

 **[Laura 8.55 pm]** See? Maybe he’s having second thoughts too.

 **[Derek 8.56 pm]** Okay he’s here. Gotta go.

 **[Laura 8.57 pm]** Hahaha okay. Have fun and text me if things aren’t working out or anything. If stuff gets awkward, just put on a movie and watch it together.

 **[Laura 9.30 pm]** So, how’s it going? Can you sneak in a picture of him?

 **[Derek 9.39 pm]** He’s brought his laptop and he’s sitting outside on the terrace, working, because he said he didn’t want to disturb me.

 **[Laura 9.40 pm]** Ouch.

 **[Laura 9.43 pm]** Try asking him if he needs anything – that should start a conversation – probably. Tell him you’ve made coffee and would he like to come inside and have some.

 **[Derek 9.59 pm]** He said he can’t drink coffee after eight because otherwise he’d be bouncing off the walls all night. He has ADHD.

 **[Laura 10.02]** :( Okay, don’t give up. Um, where is he sleeping?

 **[Derek 10.04 pm]** On the couch. I’ve made it up for him already.

 **[Laura 10.05 pm]** Oh. Okay, um, have you told him that yet? Go out and tell him it’s ready and he can come in anytime.

 **[Derek 10.13 pm]** Laura, he’s really not interested. He smiled and said he’d come in after he’s done with his work and that I shouldn’t worry or wait up.

 **[Laura 10.15 pm]** Oh, Derek. I’m sorry. Maybe he’s had a rough day and just needs to be alone. Maybe you can try again in the morning. Cook him a great breakfast or something?

 **[Derek 10.21 pm]** I don’t know, Laur. I just told him I’m heading up to bed and where the coffee is, in case he wakes up before me.

 **[Laura 10.23 pm]** :( Derek, I’m sure it’ll work out better in the morning.

 **[Derek 11.49 pm]** He hasn’t come in yet because I haven’t heard the terrace door slide open. Should I go check up on him?

 **[Laura 11.53 pm]** Yeah. Maybe he’s fallen asleep on the terrace.

 **[Derek 12.01 am]** That’s exactly what’s happened.

 **[Derek 12.03 am]** I shut his laptop and came back up but it’s kinda cold out tonight. Should I go cover him up with a blanket or something?

 **[Laura 12.05 am]** Oh god, yes. Why are you even asking me, idiot, do you want him to freeze to death?!

 **[Laura 12.05 am]** TAKE A PICTURE WHILE YOU’RE AT IT

 **[Derek 12.06 am]** I’m not taking a picture of him sleeping! That’s creepy!

 **[Laura 12.06 am]** Oh pleaseee pleaseee. I wanna see him!!

 **[Derek 12.06 am]** It’s creepy, Laura.

 **[Laura 12.07 am]** Do it or I’ll look up his number and tell him all about how you really love him.

 **[Derek 12.07 am]** You wouldn’t.

 **[Laura 12.08 am]** Try me. I’m the best detective this precinct has.

 **[Derek 12.09 am]** Okay, okay, hold on, I’ll send you a picture.  <attached image382_15.jpg>

 **[Laura 12.10 am]** OMG. HE’S ADORABLE. LOOK AT THOSE PRETTY MOLES!

 **[Laura 12.12 am]** Seriously, though, he looks like someone you would fall in love with. I see what you mean.

 **[Derek 12.13 am]** Okay. I put some blankets on him and now I’m going to go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.

*

When Stiles wakes up, he feels strangely toasty and warm. For in a minute, he feels extremely disoriented because he doesn’t recognize the surroundings but then he realizes he’s on Derek’s terrace. Blinking in surprise, he sits up on the sun lounger he had settled into last night with his laptop when he’d come over. The last thing he remembers is sending off an email to Lydia about some changes he had made in the menu at Love Shake and then he thinks he might have fallen asleep. What none of that explains, however, are the two thick blankets that are draped over his lower body and the fact that his laptop is shut and is lying on a table next to him.

“Hey,” comes a voice from behind him and he turns sharply. It’s Derek, standing in the doorway to the terrace. He’s wearing a tank top and pajamas and he has bedhead hair, all mussed up and sleepy looking. Stiles knows he’s staring but he just can’t stop.

“Good morning,” Derek prompts. He’s holding two cups of coffee and walks over to hand one to Stiles. Stiles mumbles “Good morning”, takes it from him and brings it up to his mouth for a taste immediately because having all that tan skin in such proximity is doing things to him that he doesn’t want to admit to and he needs a distraction, stat. It’s why he spent the evening outside on the terrace where he could be far away from Derek’s soft Henley and jeans that hugged the curve of his ass tightly.

The coffee is a little sweeter than he takes it usually but it’s good anyway. Unfortunately, the expanse of tan skin is still there because Derek has now settled down on one of the chairs around the table and is looking at him over the lip of his cup.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. Stiles swallows down some hot coffee and nods.

“Did you get me the blankets?” Stiles asks even though the question is pretty redundant because who else would have covered him up with blankets? Derek nods and puts his feet up on the table.

“Yeah. You fell asleep and I didn’t want you to freeze to death. That wouldn’t go over very well with your dad, I’m assuming,” he grins and it melts Stiles’ heart. Damn. Why couldn’t he be a normal person who was actually interested in dating him?

“Nah,” Stiles agrees, having some more coffee to diffuse the encroaching awkwardness of a silence. “So, um, what time is it?”

“About eight-thirty, I think,” Derek says. “Do you need to leave soon?”

Stiles hesitates because he doesn’t really want to leave but he feels awkward in staying for a time longer than is necessary. He’s in the process of deciding what to say when Derek speaks again.

“I was just about to make breakfast. You’re welcome to stay,” he says, setting his empty cup on the table between them and lifting his legs off it. Stiles drains the last of his coffee and places his cup next to Derek’s, nodding in agreement.

“Great,” Derek sounds genuinely pleased and gets up from his chair, turning to go back inside. “Follow me.”

Stiles does, grabbing the cups, his laptop and the blankets. He deposits the laptop and blankets on the couch he was supposed to sleep on the night before and follows Derek into the little kitchen where he’s still wearing that damned tank top and low slung pajamas. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles can see them dip low enough that if he just turned his head a fraction, he’d probably be able to see Derek’s happy trail.

“How do you like your eggs?” Derek asks, startling Stiles. He puts the cups in the sink and turns, feeling flustered.

“Um, scrambled is fine,” he says. Derek grins and turns back to the stove, wielding a spatula in his hand. “Could you take out the plates from the cupboard just behind you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles reaches for the stack and puts two on the counter next to the stove. He notices a cutlery rack and pulls out two spoons and two forks and puts them on the plates as well, while Derek is scrambling the eggs and seasoning them.

“If you could put the bread in the toaster, that would be great too,” Derek smiles, pointing at the bread basket with his spatula. Stiles hums in response and puts two slices in the slots and presses the button. The domesticity of the situation is slowly threatening to make him fall for Derek even harder but he’s thinking about his dad and Isaac and Scott and the shop and the annual Christmas Dance party and how he’s supposed to pick out a tux – oh shit.

The Christmas Dance. How could he have forgotten that? Its his first dance after coming back from university and where, before, he had taken Danny, now – now he would have to take Derek. Oh shit.

“Um,” he clears his throat. Derek is dishing up the eggs and reaching for the toast that have just popped out.

“Yeah?” he turns to Stiles, one eyebrow raised inquiringly.

“There’s a dance. The Annual Christmas Dance,” Stiles says, sliding into his seat and picking up his fork. Derek nods.

“Yeah, I heard. Do you want me to take you? I think it’s kind of a big deal here, isn’t it?” he spreads some butter on his toast and takes a bite.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles says, surprised. “Yeah, it’s the biggest Christmas event and the station, the fire department and Lydia take turns holding it,” he eats some of the eggs and they’re so perfect he has to stop himself from moaning in appreciation.

“Okay, then, we’ll go,” Derek shrugs. Stiles gulps down some water and smiles weakly. “Who’s holding it this year?”

“Lydia,” Stiles tells him. “She’s been planning it for ages and I think she’s even hired someone to make a huge ice replica of the town, complete with miniature houses and everything.”

“Wow,” Derek looks impressed.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees. “Lydia is kinda – something else,” he sighs. “Anyway,” he steels himself. “I was just thinking about, you know, about when we should break up,” he says quickly. _Gotta do it sometime, right? Better now when you still haven’t totally fallen in love with the dude._

Derek looks surprised and kind of disappointed but it’s a fleeting expression. A blink and he’s back to his normal, slightly wooden, slightly angry face.

“After the dance would be a good time, I think? We could go off and look like we were having an argument and then I could storm off or you could, it doesn’t really matter, and then it’ll be over,” Stiles presses on, because giving details makes it more real – more solid and more possible that he will actually go through with it instead of giving in halfway and kissing Derek’s stupidly gorgeous mouth and run his fingers through his stupidly soft-looking hair.

“Sounds good,” Derek says shortly, scraping his plate clean and getting up to put it in the sink. Stiles forks the last bits of egg into his mouth and gets up too. He really must get going if he wants to get to the shop on time.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he tells Derek as he hoists his bag over his shoulder again and reaches for the doorknob. Derek is leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest and only nods in reply. Stiles can’t help but feel like he did something wrong or maybe said something offensive but he can’t really figure out what and there’s nothing else he can do so he nods back and leaves.

One last dance and he can forget about Derek and his stubble and his indescribable eyes and the curve of his ass forever.

*

 **[Laura 9.10 am]** How was it! How was breakfast? Did you say anything? Did he say anything?

 **[Laura 3.45 pm]** Derek? How did it go??

 **[Laura 9.28 pm]** I’m worried Derek. Pick up your phone, dammit.

 **[Laura 8.19 am]** Okay, this has gone on long enough. I WILL fly over if that is what it takes to talk to you.

 **[Laura 12.58 pm]** That’s it. I’m buying a ticket right now if you don’t reply within ten minutes and I’m flying out and I’m gonna find Stiles and lock you two in a room till you figure things out.

 **[Derek 1.02 pm]** Don’t fly out. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking.

 **[Laura 1.04 pm]** You could’ve said that instead of avoiding my calls and texts for two days straight!

 **[Derek 1.05 pm]** Sorry.

 **[Laura 1.08 pm]** It’s okay. Are you really okay? I know you don’t want to talk but idk, Derek, gimme something. I’m really worried here.

 **[Derek 2.19 pm]** He said he wanted to break up after the dance so that’s what we’re gonna do. I’ll be his date for the dance and after that we’ll have a pretend fight and then we’ll “break up”.

 **[Laura 2.21 pm]** Oh.

 **[Laura 2.22 pm]** I’m sorry.

 **[Derek 2.23 pm]** It’s okay. This is what I signed up for. I shouldn’t be surprised.

*

It’s the day of the Christmas Party and Stiles and Derek haven’t spoken since their breakfast at his place. It feels kind of strange and wrong but Stiles has been busy with the new Christmas menu at The Love Shake and hasn’t had time to figure out what exactly is wrong. But now that it’s 3.30 pm on the day they’re supposed to go to the dance, and he hasn’t even heard from Derek once, Stiles is slightly worried. What if Derek has forgotten about it?

“Should I text him to remind him?” he asks Allison, who’s sitting on one of the bar stools, sipping a caramel milkshake with chocolate curls and reading the newspaper. She’s waiting for Isaac to finish closing up so they can go and pick up his tux. No one’s surprised Isaac has left it to the very last minute.

“Text Derek?” she asks, looking up. Stiles fiddles with the jar of straws and nods.

“Yeah, sure. If he hasn’t texted you or called, maybe he’s forgotten,” she frowns adorably, her brow scrunching up. “You should definitely text to remind him!” she smiles, her cheeks dimpling.

Stiles sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

 **[Stiles 3.40 pm]** Hey, just a quick reminder that the dance is tonight. I’ll pick you up at eight?

He sets his phone on the counter and then props up his elbows on it, resting his chin on his hands. Allison glances at him and laughs.

“You do know it takes half a minute, on average, to reply to a text, don’t you? Staring at the phone won’t make his reply come any faster,” she says, sipping the last of her milkshake and handing over the empty cup to Stiles. Stiles accepts it grumpily and sighs again.

“Oh well, at least I reminded him,” he says as he goes drops the cup into the trash can. “And my tux is ready, thanks to you and Lydia,” he adds.

“You’re gonna look great!” Allison says, turning when the bell above the door tinkles. It’s Isaac, in his customary uniform of scarf and blue jacket. She waves and he comes over, sighing heavily.

“Hi, babe,” she smiles, giving him a peck on the cheek. “What’s up?”

“Lydia wants me to get the ice blue tux instead of the black one I picked because the blue one will match Jackson’s,” Isaac complains. Stiles giggles when he imagines Isaac in an ice blue suit and Isaac shoots him a glare. Stiles stifles his snorts behind his hand.

“But, babe, you know that way we’ll all match, right? Lydia and I are wearing white and you two will be wearing blue so it’ll be perfect for the photos,” Allison says to him sweetly, a hand on his arm.

“But I’ll look like an idiot,” Isaac groans. “I don’t even know why Jackson agreed to it.”

“Come on,” Allison pouts. “Do it for me.” Isaac looks at her puppy eyes and sighs in defeat.

“Okay,” he says in a resigned tone as Allison gives Stiles a secret smile. Stiles continues to chortle at the image in his head and Isaac flips him off as Allison gets off the stool and grabs her jacket.

“Thanks for the milkshake, Stiles,” she waves to him, tucking her other arm in Isaac’s.

“No problem, Ally,” Stiles waves back. He sighs when they leave and stares at the two customers still in their booths. He can’t close until they leave. At least while Allison was there, he had someone to talk to. His phone suddenly lights up with an incoming text and he pounces on it.

 **[Derek 4.02 pm]** Eight is fine.

It’s all he’s said and Stiles pockets his phone in disappointment. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. Maybe an emoticon? It would have made it sound less formal and short. Oh well, at least his customers were getting up.

 

When he gets home, his dad is in the living room, watching a game. Stiles drops his keys in the little dish with the spare change on the table in the hall and frowns.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, dad?” he asks, sinking onto the sofa next to him and picking up one of the unopened beers from the coffee table. His dad reaches for the remote to mute the game and sighs heavily.

“Tara told me take the day off and Jordan seconded the decision and before I knew it the whole station was pushing me out of the door and telling me I deserved a holiday,” he says grumpily, taking a swig of his beer.

Stiles laughs as he settles back into the couch. “And I see they were successful in kicking you out,” he remarks, bringing the bottle to his lips and drinking nearly a quarter in one go. His dad grunts and puts his empty bottle on the floor and stretches.

“So, you’re going to ask Melissa to dance this time, aren’t you?” Stiles asks, looking sideways at him and grinning. His dad and Melissa were always on the verge of asking each other out but it hadn’t happened yet and every year, no matter how much Stiles and Scott pushed their parents into asking each other to dance, they always found excuses not to. It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other. Stiles knew that she was on his speed dial and he suspected she was on a number higher up than even him but he’d never been able to prove it. And then there was the time she made him soup and casseroles when he was sick and Stiles was at university. Scott had told him all about it but when Stiles had later asked his dad about it, he had blushed red and denied everything.

But this year, Stiles was determined to get them to dance and hopefully, they’d realize how perfect they were for each other and then get married and then Scott and he would be actual bros.

His dad blushes and shrugs. “Nah,” he says.

“Oh yes you are,” Stiles says, punching his dad lightly in the arm. “If you don’t dance with Melissa I won’t dance with Derek and Derek will be very sad because he loves to dance and he’s been looking forward to this ever since I asked him to come with me,” he says, feeling triumphant.

His dad mock-glares at him and Stiles grins wickedly, knowing he has him backed in a corner now.

“Okay, fine,” the Sheriff finally gives in. “One dance.”

“A slow one,” Stiles orders.

“A slow one,” his dad repeats, sounding defeated. Stiles whoops and punches a hand into the air. Finally.

*

 **[Laura 7.14 pm]** Are you getting ready? Send me a picture of you in your tux!

 **[Derek 7.16 pm]** Why!

 **[Laura 7.17 pm]** Why’d you think, dumbass? I miss you living here and I miss your dumb face and I don’t think anyone can ever persuade you to use snapchat.

 **[Derek 7.18 pm]** I look like me in dress pants and shirt, just wearing a black suit jacket with a weird pocket handkerchief.

 **[Laura 7.19 pm]** Oh come on, Derek. Don’t deny me this simple pleasure.

 **[Derek 7.21 pm]** Why do I always end up doing what you want? Ugh.  <attached: image 412_15.jpeg>

 **[Laura 7.23 pm]** Oh my god! You look so handsome and amazing!

 **[Derek 7.24 pm]** Thanks :)

 **[Laura 7.25 pm]** He’s totally going to fall for you tonight. I just know it. I can feel it in my bones.

 **[Derek 7.28 pm]** Don’t say that. You do remember we “break up” tonight, don’t you? Anyway he’s gonna be here soon. I’ll talk to you later.

 **[Laura 7.30 pm]** You know I’m never wrong about the feelings in my bones. Anyway, good luck with tonight ;)

*

The park is lit up with blue fairy lights and in the middle, where the swings usually are, the much-talked about Beacon Hills’ replica in ice sits proudly on a much larger block of ice with “Merry Christmas, Beacon Hills!” engraved on it. Stiles looks at it, impressed.

“Wow, Lydia really outdid herself this time,” he says. Derek hums in response as he looks around. He had been pretty silent in the car as well and Stiles had filled the awkward silence with the radio.

“So, um, shall we go say hi to my dad?” Stiles asks. Derek agrees readily and they walk over to where the deputies are standing. His dad is there, looking particularly splendid in a navy blue tux. When he sees Derek and Stiles approaching, he excuses himself and comes over to hug Derek.

“Great to see you, Derek,” he exclaims, holding him at arm’s length. “You look very nice.”

“Thanks, John,” Derek grins.

“So, how’s Laura?” the Sheriff asks.

“She’s great. She’s looking at a promotion, hopefully.”

“That’s amazing news! Congratulate her from me, will you?” his dad claps Derek on the shoulder and moves back.

“Uh uh, dad,” Stiles warns. “Don’t even think about trying to escape. The music’s just about to start and you know what that means, right?” Derek looks adorably confused but his dad looks shifty.

“But I’m thirsty. I was just gonna go get some punch,” he says, looking around. Stiles puts a hand on his arm and grabs a glass of punch from a passing waiter with the other. “Here you go,” he hands it to his dad.

“Ah, thanks,” his dad says, taking a sip. Derek is still looking between the both of them, confused. Stiles gives him a look that he hopes says “Act like you know what’s happening,” and it must work because Derek schools his features into a more neutral look.

“I see Melissa right there,” Stiles turns his dad by the shoulders, pointing out Scott’s mom. She looks very pretty and is wearing a mint green dress and her hair is down, for once. She’s talking to some of the other scrub nurses.

“She looks busy,” the Sheriff says, turning back towards Stiles.

“Nope,” Stiles tells him, turning him back to Melissa’s direction and giving him a little push. “Go get her,” he grins. His dad glares at him one last time before walking over.

“Um, what’s happening?” Derek sidles over finally and asks when the Sheriff is out of earshot.

“I’m trying to get him and Scott’s mom together,” Stiles grins. “Told him I wouldn’t dance with you until he danced with her and that you love dancing so you’d be really upset.”

Derek laughs. Stiles looks at him in surprise, feeling like dozens of ridiculous butterflies are dancing in his stomach. “Well, I do love dancing,” Derek grins at him. “Shall we?” he bows and holds out a hand. The butterflies in Stiles’ stomach bounce as if they’ve had too much coffee. Stiles groans internally. _Damn it, butterflies!_

“Okay,” Stiles accepts the hand offered to him and lets himself be pulled along to the dance floor. The song is upbeat and catchy (thank god because he doesn’t know if he can take slow dancing right now, what with all the touching and closeness, without leaning over and kissing Derek silly). Stiles pulls some moves and Derek copies them, grinning. They bounce along and Stiles catches Allison give him a wave as she twirls by wildly, Isaac grinning like a maniac and looking absolutely ridiculous in his ice blue tux. Even Derek laughs at him when he notices.

“You’re good!” Stiles shouts over the music as Derek grabs his hand and pulls him into a twist.

“So are you!” Derek shouts back. The music slows down then and there’s a brief pause in which Stiles leans heavily against Derek’s arm, panting.

“God, my head’s spinning a little,” he admits, putting a hand up to it and shaking it gently. Derek rubs his arm comfortingly and grabs him a punch glass from a passing waiter. Stiles downs it.

“Do you see my dad anywhere?” he asks, looking around. The music has picked up again but it looks like they’ve decided to sit this one out. Derek looks around too and points to where his dad and Melissa are swaying together, matching smiles on their faces. Stiles whoops and grins.

“Thank god! Finally!” he shouts as Derek grins happily too. “Next dance?” Stiles asks, turning back to him questioningly.

“Sure,” Derek agrees, pulling another punch glass from a tray and drinking it.

They dance together for four more songs before Stiles finally collapses in Derek’s arms. There’s an awkward moment where Derek holds him up and their faces are close enough for Stiles to simply lean in and kiss Derek. But he resists the temptation, just smiles and limps over the edge of the dance floor where the seats are. Scott, Isaac, Lydia, Kira and Allison are already sitting there, the women massaging their feet, while Jackson stands nearby, looking vaguely pissed. Derek sinks into a chair next to Isaac and Stiles takes a seat between Lydia and Scott.

“Hey,” he greets them, leaning back with a long sigh.

“Do you like this year’s decorations?” Lydia asks him sweetly as everyone but her, Derek and Stiles groans.

“She’s been asking everyone this,” Scott sighs. “Just say they look brilliant,” he says before Lydia leans over Stiles to punch him in the arm, hard.

“Ow!” Scott rubs at the spot, glaring at her but she’s already giving her trademark slightly dangerous, slightly inviting smile to Stiles.

“They’re amazing, Lyds!” Stiles enthuses genuinely because he really does love the ice replica of the town. He says as much and Lydia glows with pride, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, slipping her heels back on and getting up. “Jackson,” she calls and he brightens up, coming over immediately. She gives him a quick kiss before they disappear into the crowd.

“Coming?” Allison tilts her head at Isaac. He gets up and holds out a hand and she takes it, smiling and they disappear too. Then it’s only Scott, Kira and Derek left. They sit in a strangely comfortable silence for a while before Kira decides her feet have stopped hurting too. She pulls Scott off to the dance floor, smiling apologetically at Stiles.

“So,” Derek says, sounding kind of somber. Stiles glances at him and can’t help but keep looking. Derek looked extremely handsome in his black tux with the purple handkerchief in the pocket but now he’s taken off the suit jacket and has rolled up his sleeves and oh god, Stiles really should stop looking at him if he wants to remain sane because the way that white shirt stretches across broad chest is simply sinful.

“Yeah?” Stiles says and then clears his throat because he sounds kind of hoarse.

“How do we break up?” Derek looks straight at him, his expression serious and nothing at all like the goofy grins he had been giving Stiles while they were dancing.

“Oh,” Stiles says eloquently.

“I was thinking that maybe after one more dance you can storm off to a place near wherever your dad is, but not within earshot, and then I can follow you there in a bit and we can have a small fight and then I’d leave,” Derek says. Stiles swallows. _I don’t want to break up with you._ It’s on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say it.

“That sounds good,” he says instead, schooling his features to look as normal as possible. Derek nods.

“Great,” he says, settling back into his chair, presumably waiting for the song to end. “Do you have a reason ready for why we break up?” He isn’t looking at Stiles.

“Um, yeah, I’ll figure that out when my dad asks,” Stiles laughs in what sounds like a pathetic manner to him. “I’m better at making things up on the fly than about planning them beforehand,” he explains. Derek nods but not like he’s interested. Stiles swallows again and follows his lead and looks straight ahead. It’ll all be over in a few minutes and after one more lie to his dad, he’d be free.

He watches Jackson twirl Lydia around so that her dress floats around her in a perfect circle. Allison’s got an arm around Isaac and is leading, from what he can see. He’s not surprised. Kira and Scott are in a world of their own, wrapped in each other’s arms. Stiles has a feeling they’ll be the first from the gang to get married and it makes him sad and happy, both at once. He glances around and spots Danny and Ethan laughing in a corner. They’re not dancing but they look happy. Stiles looks away.

In the farthest corner of the dance floor, his dad and Melissa are dancing slowly. He’d made his dad promise him one dance but it looks like Scott and his plans are finally working out. He looks at all his friends, happy and in love and feels empty inside.

He glances over at Derek who’s texting someone on his phone and doesn’t even notice him looking.

If only – if only he didn’t – if only Derek was interested in him as more than a fake boyfriend. He feels tears spring to his eyes and blinks them away furiously, not wanting to let Derek see him cry or break down in any way.

“Come on,” he says shortly, nudging Derek with his foot as the song ends. Derek looks up, startled and pockets his phone, clearing his throat. Stiles walks towards the dancefloor, not waiting for Derek.

*

 **[Derek 10.14 pm]** He’s perfect Laur. I can’t stop thinking about him and he’s sitting just a few chairs away. I don’t know if I can go through with this breakup. I just can’t do it. What do I do?!

*

The song is a slow one. Stiles hesitates, wondering if they should wait this one out, but Derek’s already there and they’re on the dancefloor and then he’s wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and holding him close. Stiles has no choice but to wrap his own arms around Derek’s neck. It means they’re uncomfortably close but Stiles tries not to think about that.

Derek clears his throat as they start to sway gently to Aerosmith. “Stiles,” he whispers, sliding a hand a little further up his back. Stiles looks up, from where he’s been staring at the buttons of his shirt. Derek’s looking at him with an intensity he has never seen before and it makes his breath catch.

“Stiles,” Derek repeats again as if he doesn’t know what to say next. Stiles waits with bated breath as Derek’s eyes seem to change colour imperceptibly and his gaze shifted to Stiles’ mouth. Before he knew it, Derek was kissing him. _With tongue._ It felt like an explosion inside Stiles’ mouth – he tasted like punch and mint and something indescribable and his stubble grazed Stiles deliciously. He couldn’t help but kiss back, open his mouth for him to lick into, their teeth clacking together a little before settling into a rhythm as Derek kept kissing him and kissing him until Stiles felt breathless and weak at the knees.

He gasped when Derek suddenly pulled back. His pupils were blown and his mouth was open in surprise and kiss-swollen. Stiles felt like his probably looked the same. His heart racing, he kept staring at Derek in shock.

“Um,” he finally said after what seemed like hours later. His voice sounded hoarse and breathless even to him but his mind was too far gone to even care. “What was that?” he said in a raspy voice. They’d stilled but their arms were still around each other. Slowly, Derek’s grip on him loosened as he shook his head.

“Um, your dad,” he cleared his throat too. “Your dad was watching, but, you’re right, I shouldn’t have done that,” he sounded upset and everything was too fast and too slow all at once. Derek stepped away completely, leaving Stiles feeling emptier than ever.

“No, Derek,” Stiles whispered weakly as he turned away and disappeared into the crowd. Stiles swallowed and brought his fingers up to his mouth, pressing them against it slightly, trying to recapture that feeling.

*

 **[Derek 11.29 pm]** I kissed him. I kissed him, I’m so stupid, Laura.

 **[Laura 11.34 pm]** Oh my god, what did he say?

 **[Derek 11.35 pm]** I don’t know, I left.

 **[Laura 11.37 pm]** YOU IDIOT. WHY DID YOU DO THAT?

 **[Derek 11.39 pm]** Why what else should I have done!

 **[Laura 11.40 pm]** TALKED TO HIM DUMBASS. STAYED TO SEE HIS REACTION AT LEAST.

 **[Derek 11.42 pm]** I saw his reaction. He looked shocked.

 **[Laura 11.43 pm]** Well obviously that would be his immediate response! I can’t believe how dumb you are.

 **[Derek 11.45 pm]** What do I do??

 **[Laura 11. 47 pm]** Call him. Talk to him.

 **[Derek 11.47 pm]** Wait, I think he’s at the door.

 **[Laura 11.48 pm]** YOU TWO BETTER END UP TOGETHER OR I WILL PERSONALLY KILL YOU BOTH.

*

“What did you mean?” Stiles barges in, not giving Derek any time to shut the door in his face. Derek is still in his shirt and pants and his tie is loosened and he looks haunted. But he doesn’t turn Stiles away.

“What do you mean, what did I mean?” Derek asks, running a hand through his hair. Stiles paces the floor almost angrily.

“What did you mean by kissing me like that?” Stiles asks, coming to a stop in front of him, jabbing a finger straight in his chest. Derek looks at him desperately.

“I don’t know, Stiles,” he whispers, looking even more haunted. His eyes are wide and he’s breathing hard. Stiles turns the jab into a punch to the arm which doesn’t even affect Derek.

“You kissed me,” Stiles half-shouts. “You _kissed_ me.”

“I know I did,” Derek whispers again. His eyes are changing colours again and their proximity gets the better of Stiles. He grabs Derek by the arms and looks straight at him.

“Kiss me again,” he tells Derek hoarsely, his entire body tingling in anticipation. Derek looks at him and then down at his mouth. “Please,” Stiles adds desperately, licking his lips unconsciously. He needs to _know._

“Are you sure?” Derek asks, his eyes wide and questioning and his voice trembling. Stiles glares at him. Derek swallows, and then they’re kissing again, Stiles’ hands shifting from Derek’s arms to the back of his neck and then his fingers are tangling themselves in Derek’s hair as Derek kisses him almost furiously, biting his lip and pulling it between his teeth with a low growl at the back of his throat. Stiles moans into the kiss, pulling at Derek’s hair.

Derek takes it as a sign that he should pull back so he does, breathing, his mouth red. Stiles pants too, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Derek’s. They stay like that in silence, breathing loudly, chests heaving.

“So,” Derek finally whispers, his voice rough. Stiles feels his entire body tingle at the sound and wonders what the result will be if Derek was to says his name in that voice.

“This isn’t fake dating,” Stiles finally says what they’ve both been unable to say.

“It isn’t,” Derek agrees, pulling back slightly to look at Stiles properly.

“So now what?” Stiles asks, swallowing, slightly afraid.

“We could take it slow,” Derek suggests, his breathing finally calmer. Stiles feels his own heart slow down to a more normal rate.

“I like that,” Stiles says, “But, um, we can still kiss, right? Because I think kissing you is like, my favourite thing now,” he grins, pressing his fingers against Derek’s stubble. Derek laughs.

“Kissing is fine,” he smiles, leaning in to peck Stiles on the lips. “You can sleep over too. No sex,” he clarifies quickly. “Just sleeping.”

“Sure,” Stiles agrees but then puts on a serious face. Derek furrows his brows, looking slightly worried.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Just a warning: I like to cuddle a lot. I’m like, the cuddle monster,” Stiles breaks out into a grin and Derek looks relieved.

“Jeez, you scared me,” he says, leaning his forehead back against Stiles’. Stiles nuzzles his nose to Derek’s and smiles happily.

*

 **[Laura 12.04 am]** Well!? What happened?! TELL ME.

 **[Laura 12.32 am]** I think I’m going to assume that you two got together. Please text me whenever you wake up.

*

Stiles wakes up first, the ghost of Derek’s kisses still lingering on his mouth and throat. They hadn’t gone any lower than that even though a part of Stiles kind of wanted to. But now they had all the time in the world and when they did have sex, Stiles knew it would be perfect. He shivers deliciously as he turns his head to see Derek still sleeping. He looks peaceful and happy and it makes Stiles’ heart do funny things in his chest. He turns onto his side, feeling more content than he ever remembered feeling.

He reaches forward with his hand and smooths it over Derek’s cheek, his thumb tracing the slight hollow beneath his eye. Slowly, Derek opens his eyes sleepily, smiling when Stiles swims into his vision.

“Hi,” Stiles murmurs, leaning in to press his lips against Derek’s. Derek kisses him, mouth closed because they have morning breath, but he smiles against his lips. Stiles pulls back, still stroking his cheek.

“Hi, yourself,” Derek whispers sleepily. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Stiles laughs quietly.

“Me neither,” Derek smiles.

They stay like that, in comfortable silence, for quite a few minutes while Stiles plays with Derek’s hair and runs his fingers along his jawline and cheekbones, looking mesmerized.

“So,” Derek says after a while, stretching and rolling Stiles over, holding him close. Stiles rests his head on Derek’s chest and closes his eyes. He can hear the steady beat of his heart and it feels so intimate that it makes Stiles want to stay in bed with Derek forever.

“So are we actually dating now?” Derek asks after a while. Stiles opens his eyes, his fingers tracing random patterns on Derek’s chest.

“If you want to,” he says finally, tilting his head so that he can look at Derek.

“Of course I want to, idiot,” Derek laughs but it’s got a nervous edge.

“I want to, too,” Stiles tells him sincerely. Derek looks at him for a minute and then starts to grin.

“So you’ve fallen for me like you fell for that girl,” he says, sounding ridiculously pleased.

“Nah,” Stiles says quickly. Derek’s face falls for a second before his smile is back in place but Stiles notices it. “I’ve fallen for you harder,” he says quietly, slowly.

Derek’s entire face lights up and Stiles grins, resting his head back on his chest and sighing happily as Derek’s fingers wander gently through his hair. _I love you_. He can feel the words in his throat but he can’t get them out. Not yet.

But he’s not worried. He has all the time in the world to say it.

*

 **[Derek 6.59 pm]** Erica. I’m sorry I’ve been skipping out on meetings and appointments and generally avoiding you. I know you said that even if I didn’t want to talk about Kate anymore or do regular sessions, I should still check in with you and I’m sorry I haven’t been doing that.

 **[Derek 7.02 pm]** But do you remember Stiles? I fell in love with him. I don’t know how and I don’t know when but he’s funny and smart and kind and I love him. I haven’t told him yet and won’t for a while but we’re together now and it’s amazing.

 **[Derek 7.05 pm]** He makes me happy. In the two days I’ve spent with him, he’s made me smile so much my cheeks hurt and I feel like I’m floating. This is better than any therapy (not that I hated talking to you). He makes me happy and he feels right and I’m honestly scared of having him in my life because he’s so good and I’ve never had anyone this good or even if I have, they’ve been taken away from me.

 **[Derek 7.08 pm]** I know that will probably make you think I need therapy to work through my fears but if it’s okay, I’d like to do this on my own. I’m starting new with Stiles and I want it to be just us. Yes, I’m scared and yes, this feels overwhelmingly new most of the time but I love the feeling. I love him.

 **[Derek 7.10 pm]** But thank you for everything that you’ve done for me over this year. I may not have been the best patient but you’re a good therapist. I hope it’s still okay to call you occasionally to vent but you should be proud I’m beginning to walk on my own two feet. Thank you, Erica.

 


End file.
